


Firsts

by swimmingwolf59



Series: Between Worlds [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Brief mentions of labor camps, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, M/M, Some angst, Touch Telepathy, Vulcan Mind Melds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24141850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimmingwolf59/pseuds/swimmingwolf59
Summary: A collection of Joanna's firsts.
Relationships: Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Series: Between Worlds [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699312
Comments: 20
Kudos: 78





	Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short thing and it uhhh kinda got away from me lol
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

**First book**

“Cells are enclosed by a lipid bilayer—a double layer of phospholipids that is impermeable to large molecules and charged ions. The basic composition of the lipid bilayer is two layers of phospholipids that arrange spontaneously, with the phosphate heads facing the extracellular fluid and intracellular fluid, and the fatty acid tails oriented toward the center, the hydrophobic core of the membrane.”

Spock glanced up from the computer where he had been finishing a report. Leonard was lying on their bed, Joanna propped up against his chest and a thick book spread out in front of him. Spock raised an eyebrow. They had both decided that reading to Joanna as soon as possible would be important, but they had learned that PADD reading wasn’t interactive enough for a young child, and they had not yet discussed where they would get physical material. Apparently, Leonard had decided to just start with what he had on hand.

Still, Spock felt he had to ask. “What are you doing?”

“Reading to her.” Leonard glanced up at him with a loose grin. “It’s the lightest reading I have.”

Spock crossed his arms and bit back his smile. “Somehow I think a textbook on human physiology is inappropriate for an infant.”

“Well heck, I guess I can try and replicate something.” He stood, Joanna balanced on his hip, and meandered over to the replicator. “I have absolutely no idea what my mom read to me when I was a baby. Do you remember what Amanda read to you?”

“I remember several Vulcan children’s books, yes.”

“Well, you’d have to read those.” Leonard frowned at the replicator. “Hm…guess I’ll just see what pops up. Earth children’s book.”

A bright yellow book materialized and Leonard picked it up with an even deeper frown. “ _Curious George_? Look at this thing, it must be ancient! Aren’t there any _modern_ children’s books?”

Another book materialized, and Leonard set _Curious George_ down on the table to pick it up. He suddenly grinned and turned the face of the book to Spock so he could read it.

“… _My Classmate the Vulcan_?” Spock read, eyebrows raised even higher than before. “Vetoed – she will gain her knowledge of Vulcans from authentic Vulcan texts, not from what Earth thinks it knows.”

“Fair enough – I’d be afraid to look in that book, if I were you.” Though Leonard was still grinning as he stuck the book back into the replicator to be dematerialized. “Guess we’ll see if _Curious George_ is any good.”

It ended up being _too_ good. Joanna reached for it nearly every night it was Leonard’s turn to read, to the point that just a vague mention of a yellow book made him appear nauseous.

“ _Please_ , I’m begging you, let me read her Human Physiology,” Leonard groaned one night, nearly in agony.

Spock took pity on him, just this once, and took the yellow book from him. “I will read it tonight.”

The next day they quietly, and rather guiltily, placed the book back onto the replicator. Joanna had plenty of Vulcan children’s books to make up for the tragic loss, and so, on nights it was Leonard’s turn to read, Spock permitted him to return to reading Human Physiology to their four-month-old.

**First haircut**

“Why. Just _why_.”

McCoy had had a long day. The _Enterprise_ had stopped at Arcadia to help with an outbreak of Levodian flu, and McCoy had been on the surface ever since organizing his med teams, coordinating with local doctors, and treating and checking on patients. Luckily they had arrived in time to prevent the flu from spreading too far, so the one day was enough to get the situation under control, but what a day it was. McCoy had been on his feet the entire time, and he was looking forward to getting home, putting his feet up, and cuddling with his fiancée and daughter.

But as if to personally spite him, when he finally got off duty, he walked into their quarters to find Spock giving their daughter a bowl cut.

Spock snipped another lock of Joanna’s hair and then looked up. “This is the traditional Vulcan haircut, Leonard.”

McCoy just stood there for a moment, stunned. Before this, Joanna had had shoulder-length black hair. It was _pretty_. McCoy had liked to braid it and remember when he’d done so for his mom before things went to shit. The fact that it was just gone now, and Spock hadn’t even _asked_ him, made him irrationally irritated.

“So you’re telling me that while I was down there curing the plague you were up here thinking about giving our five-month-old baby a _haircut_?”

“If we are to convince actual Vulcans that she is Vulcan, she will need to look the part,” Spock argued.

McCoy threw his hands up in the air. “We’re not running into real Vulcans for a couple of months still!”

“If my father calls, we will need to be prepared.”

“Does your father even _know_ about Joanna?” Spock fell silent and McCoy scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Spock considered him for a moment as he put down the scissors. It was too late regardless of why the hell he’d thought this was a good idea – the bowl cut was complete, even down to the pointy bits in front of her ears. “…I apologize, Leonard. I did not think this would upset you.”

“…No, I’m being irrational, I know.” McCoy finally stepped fully into the room and inspected Joanna more closely. It didn’t look _terrible_ on her, and she obviously wasn’t old enough to care. She seemed much more fascinated with attempting to pick up the locks of her old hair lying on her little table. “It’s just that…well don’t tell your father I said this, but you’re the only person I’ve _ever_ seen who can at least somewhat pull off a bowl cut.”

Something of a smirk twisted Spock’s lips as he sat down in a chair and admired his work. Joanna reached her arms out to him and he took her small hand in his. No matter how often he saw it, there was something about Spock interacting with their tiny daughter that melted McCoy’s insides something fierce.

“Are you saying you do not find my haircut attractive, Leonard?” Spock asked innocently.

McCoy let out a long breath. “Let’s just say I like just about every other aspect of you much better.”

Spock raised an amused eyebrow. “And what of our daughter?”

McCoy faltered. It was impossible for him to say anything bad about Joanna, even for something like this, and Spock knew it.

“It’s um, it’s uh…” he tried, but he just couldn’t _do_ it. “God _damn_ you, Spock – you can’t actually say you _like_ that haircut, can you?”

“It is what I am familiar with,” Spock said. “It is…jarring for me to see Vulcans, or Romulans, without this haircut. I am sure it would be that way for other Vulcans looking at Joanna as well. I am simply concerned for her.”

McCoy rested his head in his hands. “I thought of something I like less than that haircut.”

“And what is that?”

He glanced up at him and grinned. “Your logic.”

“I think that just proves you have bad taste,” Spock said flatly, and McCoy laughed.

“You do realize I’m marrying _you_ right? Do you still think I have bad taste?”

Spock considered this for a moment. “Alright, good taste in general with occasional lapses in judgement.”

“I can live with that,” McCoy scoffed. “But you must have known I wouldn’t approve of this, or else you wouldn’t have done it behind my back.”

“You still have not technically disapproved,” Spock said, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

This sparked about an hour-long argument that became less and less about Joanna’s haircut and more and more about who could get the last word in. So, normal affairs in the McCoy-Spock-T’Ralek household.

At the end of the hour, they finally decided on a compromise: she would have the bowl cut until it grew out past her shoulders, keep her long hair for two weeks, and then it was back to the bowl cut again. This stood for all times except for when they were around Vulcans, in which case she would keep the bowl cut until they were no longer around Vulcans.

McCoy sighed and gave his daughter a kiss on her freshly exposed forehead as he sat down next to her and finally put his feet up.

He’d just have to get used to it.

**First cold**

McCoy knew the minute he woke to Joanna’s crying that something was wrong.

It wasn’t that she was crying – she always cried in the middle of the night, at some point or another. But it was the _tone_ of her crying: while normally loud and demanding, it was now all stuffed up and miserable. He had a bad feeling he knew exactly why that was.

He got out of bed and immediately tripped over Spock. He had his mat out on the floor next to their bed and was meditating on it, which was strange to say the least. Meditation was a very private practice for Vulcans, and thus Spock usually utilized McCoy’s old quarters to meditate, rather than do it here.

“What the devil, Spock?” he hissed at him, splayed on the floor and cradling his forehead, which he’d banged on the floor when he fell.

Spock slowly blinked his eyes open. “My apologizes, Leonard – I could sense Joanna’s discomfort when I picked her up to feed her earlier, and decided it would be unwise to leave her alone while you slept. I believe she has a fever.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” McCoy growled, and stumbled over to Joanna’s crib to place his hand on her forehead. Definitely a fever – and a pretty bad one at that.

“It was your turn to sleep through,” Spock said simply.

McCoy could’ve strangled him. “That’s for when our daughter _doesn’t_ have a fever!”

“Noted,” Spock said dryly.

McCoy sent one last glare in his direction before turning his attention to Joanna. He grabbed his emergency tricorder from a compartment in the wall and ran it over her. “Did she spit up her milk when you gave it to her?”

“No. I also gave her some water, and she kept that down as well.”

“That’s good.” McCoy glanced quickly over the tricorder’s readings. “She does have a fever, but it’s not too high. I don’t think it’ll get any worse.”

Spock stood and joined McCoy by Joanna’s crib. He held out a hand to her, which she grabbed instinctively. “She will be alright, then?”

“Yeah, we shouldn’t have anything to worry about.” He grabbed a hypo form the same drawer that he’d gotten the tricorder and pressed it gently to Joanna’s neck. “I’m going to give her this to help bring her fever down. Otherwise, she’s just going to have to ride it out.”

Spock nodded and then pressed a kiss to McCoy’s temple. “Go back to sleep, Leonard. I will keep an eye on her until morning.”

McCoy sighed heavily. “Alright. But you better wake me if anything, and I mean _anything_ , seems worse than before, or I will personally—”

“I understand. I do not intend to incur your wrath more than I do already.”

McCoy huffed out a laugh and kissed Spock’s cheek. “Good night, Spock.”

“Good night, Leonard.”

McCoy did return to bed, but he found he couldn’t sleep. Every time Joanna fussed he tensed, ready to jump out of bed the minute Spock began to speak. But his partner was silent except for quiet murmurings to Joanna, so McCoy would try to relax, only for Joanna to fuss again and the whole process starting up again. Part of him wanted to just get up and try to catch up on some reports while sleep evaded him, but he knew he was too distracted to really focus on it. Besides, Spock would try to force him back to bed as soon as he got up, so he might as well stay put.

It was almost a relief when his alarm went off and he had an excuse to go over and check on Joanna again. She was asleep finally, but her fever was still going strong. Sighing, McCoy decided to take her down to Sickbay with him that day so he could keep an eye on her. It was a quiet day: only two physicals were scheduled and the _Enterprise_ wasn’t expected to arrive at the next planet until tomorrow, so McCoy could spend his entire shift checking on Joanna. Christine kept rolling her eyes at him, but she knew better than to try and get in his way.

Spock came to check in on Joanna during his lunch break.

“How is she, Leonard?” he asked, cradling an unhappy Joanna in his arms.

“No worse, but no better.” McCoy sighed and then growled, “Darn it, I thought Vulcans didn’t catch colds!”

“We are not immune to illness, Doctor, as I have told you many times,” Spock said with a pointed look. “There are 430 people aboard this vessel, all of which carry thousands of diseases that Joanna has never been exposed to. It is logical that she would be susceptible to at least one of them.”

“But I gave her all her shots – she should be immune to practically everything!”

“Leonard, even you are not capable of curing the common cold.”

“…I just wish there was more I could do for her,” McCoy said miserably, clenching his fists. “I mean, look how miserable she is – you said you could _feel_ that when you touched her. And I’m a damn doctor, I should be able to help her!”

“You have helped her considerably,” Spock said, taking McCoy’s hand with his free one and gently unfurling his fist. “You have assisted in bringing down her fever. You have given her plenty of liquids to ensure she can defend against the virus properly. You have spent nearly every moment of your time monitoring her and administrating hypos. You have helped her.”

“I know, I _know_ ,” McCoy snapped, and then sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “I’m used to feeling pretty damn useless out here, but… It’s worse, somehow, when it’s my daughter.”

Spock rubbed his thumb across McCoy’s cheek. “…Then I hope for your sake as well as hers that she will not get sick often.”

McCoy raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as Spock’s hand fell away. “And what about for your sake? Don’t tell me you aren’t worried about your daughter.”

Spock faltered, glancing at Joanna as she coughed weakly. “Of course I am concerned for her. However, considering your medical skills, there is no reason to doubt your assessment, and therefore it is logical to assume she will—”

“I’m just messing with you, Spock,” McCoy cut in before Spock could work himself up. He was all-out grinning as he leaned forward to kiss Joanna’s forehead. “She’ll be just fine.”

True to his prediction, in just a few days, Joanna was her normal happy and healthy self again. McCoy was overbearingly pleased about it, or at least he would’ve been if he wasn’t down with the same damn cold Joanna had had.

“At least I don’t cry when I’m sick, huh?” he joked weakly that evening as Spock injected a hypo into his neck.

Spock raised an eyebrow. “At least _she_ did not refuse to take any sort of medicine and instead try to go to work when she could barely stand up straight.”

“Are you saying I’m a worse patient than a _baby_?” McCoy growled, but he was so feverish there wasn’t really any heat behind it.

“I believe I said that, yes.” Spock stared at him, Joanna cooing softly in his lap. “Your daughter, as well as all of the other people on this ship, need you well again as soon as possible.”

“Fine, _fine_ ,” McCoy snapped. He weakly patted the mattress next to him. “Lie down with me?”

Spock raised an eyebrow, and McCoy laughed and added, “I promise I won’t get you sick.”

“You cannot promise that,” Spock said, but climbed in anyway. He laid Joanna on the mattress between them and then curled up against Leonard’s side. “Better?”

“Better,” McCoy hummed, and promptly fell asleep.

The next morning, Spock was sick as well, and Jim, on temporary babysitting duty, could only roll his eyes in exasperation. 

**First mind meld**

Joanna was approximately six months old when Spock decided to officially test her telepathic abilities.

He had suspected that she was telepathic for some time now. It had first occurred to him when he had observed her peculiar habit of rubbing her hands on the faces of those she was familiar with, mostly her parents, but also Uhura, Doctor M’Benga, Nurse Chapel, and sometimes Jim. This was a behavior that many Vulcan babies exhibited as a way of searching for and learning the locations of important psi points. However, since Spock had never personally observed this behavior in Vulcan babies, he did not have enough conclusive evidence to determine if this was truly her intent or if it was just by chance.

But then he began to notice how attuned she was to Leonard’s emotional state. Spock always shielded his emotions when he touched anyone other than Leonard, but he especially took care to do it for Joanna while she was young so that she did not become perplexed by the complicated emotions he possessed. He believed trying to process them as a young baby would be too stressful, and so he kept them firmly away from her.

Leonard had no such ability. And, as everyone knew, he was a man of extraordinary passions. Spock knew firsthand how intense they were from the few times he had mind melded with him, but one often didn’t need to be a telepath to guess what Leonard was feeling, just a keen observer. While on the surface Leonard appeared to be angry a majority of the time, upon closer inspection he often betrayed his true feelings merely in his body language. The curve of his shoulder or the twist of his mouth could be enough to reveal his entire emotional state.

Obviously, Joanna was too young to be such a keen observer. She also did not yet have the capacity to comprehend the emotions besides what they meant for her survival. Thus, Leonard’s emotions often did not seem to quite reach her when he came home exhausted or grouchy or elated or overcome.

That was until, Spock began to notice, he picked her up. Her moods would often morph to match his – happy when he was happy, upset when he was upset, giggly when he was a bit inebriated.

It had merely been intriguing, at first. The day Spock finally decided to do something about it was after a particularly gruesome day of treating patients from a recently liberated labor camp. Leonard had spent three whole days on the surface, treating as many people as he could, each patient that he came across malnourished and beaten and physically and emotionally depleted. He came home deeply disturbed, grief practically radiating off of him as he fell into Spock’s arms. 

“Welcome home, Leonard,” Spock murmured, placing his hands steadily on Leonard’s back.

“Spock, those were some of the worst days of my life,” Leonard muttered, wrapping his arms around Spock and taking a harsh breath. “Do we have any brandy?”

“…I believe you drank the rest of it during the last mission.”

“Shit,” Leonard grumbled, forgetting himself. Joanna made a small gurgling noise from her crib, which startled Leonard a little. He smiled tiredly in Joanna’s direction and stepped out of Spock’s embrace. “Hi there, baby girl. I sure have missed you.”

Joanna had been relatively quiet, in a rather joyous mood, but as soon as Leonard touched her, her face scrunched up. Tears welled in her eyes and she began to cry, loud and piercing. Leonard’s eyes widened, and he quickly began to rock her as he looked over at Spock, exhaustion and vulnerability etched onto his face. He looked lost in a way that he never had when it came to their daughter, so Spock stepped forward and gently took her from him.

She quieted instantly and buried her face into Spock’s chest, as if trying to get as far away from Leonard as possible.

Something broke in Leonard’s expression, and his shoulders slumped. “I…I’m going to go to bed, I think.”

“Leonard,” Spock started, wanting to explain his theories, but Leonard didn’t seem to hear him.

Instead, he trudged over to the bed and climbed in under the covers, his back to them. He did not get undressed, he did not brush his teeth, he did not even say good night to them. He just went to sleep.

Spock sat on the edge of the bed, Joanna still in his arms, and decided he could not deny it any longer: despite her Romulan heritage, Joanna was a touch telepath.

And he had to do something about it.

\--

“I am going to try meditating with her, to see if I can determine the extent of her abilities,” Spock said to McCoy the next morning.

McCoy still felt pretty damn awful. His sleep, though he had badly needed it, had been full of nightmares and disturbing images so that he felt like he hadn’t slept at all. It was hard to concentrate on all that Spock was telling him, especially since it was four in the damn morning, as it always seemed to be when they had serious conversations about Joanna.

“I’m going to set up your quarters and then I will be back for her,” Spock said after McCoy had struggled and failed to listen to _why_ exactly he was going off to meditate with Joanna. Spock placed a hand on McCoy’s knee. “Unless you would like me to stay?”

He wanted him to stay – in some ways he felt like he _needed_ him to stay. But Spock always meditated in the morning, with or without Joanna, and McCoy wasn’t about to be selfish enough to deny him that. Besides, they were both on duty in a couple of hours; what difference would a few hours make?

So McCoy waved him off. “I’m fine. I’ll watch Jo until you get back.”

Spock sent him a look like he didn’t believe him, but got up and left anyway. 

McCoy sighed and leaned back against the headboard, looking at Joanna wriggling on the blankets next to him. He didn’t dare touch her, too terrified of making her cry again. Spock had told him what he thought had been the cause, but something in McCoy just didn’t believe it. His confidence in everything seemed to be shattered – he hadn’t been able to do a damn thing for those prisoners. He had diagnosed them, understood the damage done and the cause, but hadn’t been able to do anything but sit back and watch them die. He’d been able to make it a little easier for some, until the painkillers ran out. He’d become a doctor specifically so he could help people like that, so that he wouldn’t feel so _damn_ useless when he came across someone in pain.

But he couldn’t help those prisoners, and apparently he couldn’t help his own daughter, either. Instead, he seemed to actively make her feel worse.

“Da,” Joanna said. She had started babbling a few weeks ago, something that usually delighted McCoy. Now, it was just painful. “Da da da.”

“He’ll be back soon,” McCoy muttered miserably. He reached out instinctively to brush his fingers through her hair, but jerked his hand back before he could touch her.

“Ga!” Joanna shouted, and now her face was scrunching up a little in discomfort. She was probably hungry, or needed a diaper change. “Ock! Ja!!”

McCoy glanced at the doors to their quarters, hoping Spock would walk in just time, but he had no such luck. Joanna grew fussier the longer he stalled, and she kept reaching her arms out to him, desperate for him. 

He stared at her and ached. Surely…surely he couldn’t be _that_ detrimental to her. He had held her plenty of times before and she had been perfectly fine. Sure, he had never felt so emotionally compromised around her before, but she needed to be fed, or held, or _something_. He couldn’t just never touch his daughter ever again.

With grim determination, he stood from the bed and walked over to her side of it. She began to cry as soon as he picked her up, and he shushed her quietly as he began rocking her. “It’s alright baby, it’s alright.”

He didn’t know if it was alright; he certainly didn’t feel like it was. Hundreds of people had just died, McCoy couldn’t seem to do anything but hurt his own daughter. He felt horrible, utterly and truly awful, like he hadn’t in a long time. He wished desperately that he hadn’t let Spock leave, and then felt stupid for wishing it. He’d handled worse than this before. He could do this.

Joanna’s hand slapped onto his face, as if she was trying to force him out of his thoughts. He almost laughed, but then a presence entered rather forcefully and clumsily into his mind.

_It’s happening again._

Reeling back, McCoy tried to stop the mind meld, but he didn’t have any more control of the situation than he had the last time. It was different, though – Mirror Spock had been scarily in control of his penetration, had known how to precisely shatter McCoy’s flimsy mental barriers and ransack his way through McCoy’s mind. Even in such an intense intimacy, it had been very clear which mind, which memories, were McCoy’s and which ones were Spock’s.

This was something else. This was Joanna’s mind clumsily bumping around from thought to thought, memory to memory, like a pinball. This was their thoughts, feelings, and memories becoming so jumbled and mixed up that it was impossible to differentiate them. This was thoughts flying by so quickly there was nothing to hold onto, just the vague sense of _wrongness_.

Suddenly dizzy, McCoy sank to the floor, Joanna still in his arms. He desperately wanted a glass of milk, but he couldn’t seem to remember how to work the rep…rep…food maker, let alone how to stand. He felt warm, and safe, but everything around him was big and alarming and too _much_. He could sense overwhelming and scary emotions from someone else in the room, and he felt Spock…Papa’s presence before he even entered the room.

“Leonard.” Spock’s voice was calm, though his motions were hurried as he sat in front of him and gently removed Joanna’s fingers from his face. The sudden disconnection was enough to make McCoy’s head snap back in pain. “Focus on my voice, Leonard.”

“Leonard,” McCoy repeated, but the word didn’t make any sense to him.

Frowning, Spock gingerly pressed his fingers to McCoy’s psi points. Another presence entered the chaos, but this one was much more controlled, much gentler. With the precision and carefulness of a crafts maker, Spock sorted through the thoughts and memories, slotting loose ones back into place and discarding foreign ones.

_Leonard?_ Spock’s voice resonated in his head, and McCoy relaxed.

_Spock_ , he sighed, and pressed against the comforting and familiar warmth of his partner.

Satisfied, Spock carefully withdrew from McCoy’s mind. He took the time to do the same thing with Joanna, his fingers gentle on her small head as father and daughter shared their first mind meld. McCoy watched them, his mind like a pile of jelly. Even with his thoughts and memories back in their correct places, it took him a little while to stir into full cognitive consciousness.

“Did she…did she really just mind meld with me?” he asked, his words slurred like he’d been drinking.

Spock looked up at him, withdrew his fingers from Joanna’s face, and nodded. “She did. I believe it was her attempt to understand the intense emotions she was sensing from you. It is normal for Vulcans to lower their emotional shields when they touch those they consider close to them, such as a lover or a child. Vulcan babies have been shown to have an instinctual knowledge of who to lower their shields for, and thus they usually touch their parents without any shielding whatsoever. This would not normally be a problem, as Vulcan adults can shield themselves adequately as to not harm their infant. I, for example, know how to shield my emotions so that she can’t feel them, but you…”

“Force them onto her like a tsunami,” McCoy finished, and sighed. “No wonder she cried when I touched her – I wanted to cry myself.”

Spock nodded, and McCoy sighed again. “Well, what can we do? Can you teach me how to shield my emotions?”

“Since you are not telepathic, I am uncertain how effective that would be. However, I am willing to try, considering it is much too early to try and teach Joanna how to raise her own shields.”

“Alright.” McCoy gently grabbed Joanna’s wrists as she reached for his face again. “I guess I better learn before she tries to mind meld with me again.”

“The other option is to not hold her when you are feeling particularly…emotional.”

McCoy let out a dry laugh. “So, what, I’m _never_ allowed to hold her?”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I see your point.”

“I’m surprised you even suggested it,” McCoy grumbled, and then smiled weakly.

Spock leaned forward to kiss him, and then took Joanna gently from him. “You should sleep, Leonard. I will wake you before your shift.”

He kind of wanted to sleep right there on the floor, but Spock poked and prodded him until he finally slumped back onto the mattress. Spock draped the blankets over him, bent down to kiss his head, and then left to meditate.

This time, McCoy slipped easily into sleep and dreamed of nothing.

**First word**

“Lo—”

McCoy and Spock both looked up from their journals. Joanna was in her high chair next to them – she had been babbling even more recently, adding an increasing number of sounds to her arsenal. They knew it would be mostly babble for a while longer, but each time she spoke they devoted their whole attention to her. They had read it was important to respond to her, even when it was nonsense, so she could learn her proper role in a conversation. And they didn’t want to miss her first word after all – there was an argument to be won depending on what it was.

“I swear if it’s actually logic I’m going to resign,” McCoy muttered.

“It is one of the most common words we use around her. It would not be surprising,” Spock said, definitely teasing.

McCoy sent him a sour look. “Yeah, well so is ‘pointed-ears’ – maybe she’ll say that.”

“That requires a lot of difficult sounds for a baby to make, and thus it is unlikely.”

“Lucky you,” McCoy grumbled and took a sip of his coffee.

“Lo,” Joanna said again. “Lo, lo, lo…”

“She’s really insistent on this one,” McCoy said and took her hand in his. “What are you trying to say, Jo?”

She scrunched up her face a bit. “Lo—”

“Logic?” Spock supplied innocently. McCoy shot him a dirty look.

Joanna shook her head fiercely. “Lo—”

“Lobotomy!” McCoy said with a grin. Spock sent him a disapproving frown.

Joanna sent him a frown nearly identical to Spock’s, and McCoy laughed. “Alright, alright, I know, it’s about _your_ first word, not our dumb argument.”

“Lo—lolly!” she finally shouted, and her face practically looked _triumphant_.

For a moment, McCoy and Spock just stared at her. Then, McCoy burst out laughing. “ _Lolly_. Of all the things…”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Apparently Uhura has more influence on our daughter than either of us.”

“I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear it.” McCoy rolled his eyes. “Did you want a lolly then, Joanna?”

“Lolly!” she said again, more forcefully. 

“Alright, but you’re eating nothing but vegetables for the rest of the week,” he said and flapped his hand lazily at the replicator. “Lollypop, watermelon flavored.”

Joanna gurgled happily as McCoy handed her the lollypop. She grasped it clumsily and then stuck nearly the whole thing into her mouth, her few teeth gnawing happily on the treat. Spock reached out and held onto the stick, to make sure she didn’t swallow it, and shook his head. “I fail to see the quality in these Earth treats. They are choking hazards.”

“They’re damn delicious, is what they are,” McCoy said matter-of-factly. “Have you ever had a lollypop, Spock?”

Spock shot him a warning look, obviously picking up on his too innocent tone. “I have not.”

“We’ll have to remedy that then, won’t we?” McCoy said, a wicked grin on his face as he turned to the replicator. “Computer, is it possible for you to make a _gespar_ -flavored lollypop?”

“Affirmative. State chemical structure of _gespar_.”

McCoy made a face. “Never mind, blueberry will have to do.”

The lollypop materialized and McCoy grabbed it to hand to Spock. Joanna started to reach for it, but McCoy laughed and pulled it out of range. “Sorry, baby, this one’s not for you.”

But Spock didn’t take the treat, and instead just stared at it. “…It is purple.”

“It’s _blueberry_ flavored. I know you like blueberries.” McCoy waggled the lollypop in Spock’s face. “Come on, just try it. I’ll eat it if you hate it.”

Spock stared at him suspiciously, but took the lollypop from him. He inspected it for a while, turning it this way and that, as if the physical characteristics of it could possibly tell him what it tasted like, or if it was toxic. Eventually, though, he put the damn thing in his mouth. As soon as he sucked once, something loosened in his face, and then he quietly continued eating the rest.

Feeling smug, McCoy sat back and enjoyed the sight of his two favorite people devouring lollypops.

It wasn’t the exact bet they’d had, but he still felt like he had won something.

**First walk**

The mission was a simple one, for once.

They were at an Outpost on Caldos for a check-up. Spock and Jim were taken on a tour of the progress of the terraforming project while Leonard gave check-ups to the people on the station. Based on the fact that Spock couldn’t hear Leonard shouting from all the way on the other side of the station, his patients were actually cooperating for once.

“Well, everything looks in fine shape to me, Professor Montgomery,” Jim said when they were done with the tour. “We appreciate you taking the time.”

“Of course – we’re always proud to display our work to Starfleet.” They exchanged a firm handshake. To Spock’s relief, the Professor merely nodded at him, rather than attempting the same. “Good day, gentlemen.”

“You ready to go, Bones?” Jim asked as they met up with Leonard again.

“Yeah, everyone’s in excellent health – I’m almost suspicious at how good their health is.” Leonard smirked at them. “So I think that means we should get out of here before we unearth some horrible secret.”

“I agree.” Jim smirked back and flipped open his communicator. “Scotty, three to beam up.”

Spock waited for the familiar feeling of being dematerialized, but it never came. They waited around for a few seconds, and then Kirk tried the communicator again. “Scotty?”

There was a loud crackling over the channel for a moment and then Scott’s slightly panicked voice. “I’m sorry sir, the controls aren’t working down here, what the devil is Sulu doing up there—”

The communicator beeped and Sulu’s voice cut in. “Sorry sir, Joanna got onto the Bridge and she’s locked out the controls!”

“What?!” Leonard barked as Spock felt his chest tighten. “And _how_ exactly did my daughter get onto the Bridge?”

Doctor M’Benga cut into the transmission. “I’m really sorry Leonard, it’s my fault – I was letting her walk around in the hallway, and—”

Spock exchanged a glance with Leonard, letting some of his surprise show on his face. Leonard’s mouth was dangling open, so it took him a while to shout, “She can _walk_? Since _when_?”

“Oh, since this morning, it was really a sight to see!”

“…And you didn’t think this was important information to pass along?” Leonard growled as Spock tried to come to terms with the fact that his daughter was walking and he had missed the first moment it happened.

Doctor M’Benga’s shrug was practically audible. “I thought you guys already knew.”

Leonard made a complicated gesture towards Jim that looked vaguely like he was trying to strangle someone. Jim on his part looked like he was trying hard not to smile. Spock did not know what he found so amusing about the situation. “Scotty, I trust you’re, well, _doing_ something to get control back from an infant?”

“Aye, sir, but it’s delicate work. I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve rerouted control down to Engineering.”

“Good,” Jim said and snapped the communicator shut. He raised both of his eyebrows at Spock and Leonard. “Well, Miss Joanna sure does enjoy mischief, doesn’t she?”

“Just like her dad,” Leonard huffed, turning his glare to Spock as if this was somehow his fault. “I swear, between this and you trying to get yourself killed on just about every mission, you’ll give this old man a stroke.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I believe it is you, Doctor, that tends to disobey orders and run around on the Bridge unnecessarily, not me.”

Leonard straightened, no doubt a sharp retort on his tongue, but then he suddenly deflated. He ran a hand through his hair. “…I can’t believe Jo’s walking, and we’re stuck down here missing it.”

“You’ll see it eventually – it’s not like this is the only time she’ll ever walk.” Jim came up to both of them and put his hands on their shoulders. “And at least we’re not in danger down here.”

“For once,” Leonard muttered, rolling his eyes.

There was nothing much to do but stand around on the station while they waited for Scott to complete his task. Leonard paced aggressively around the room, making everyone nervous enough to give him a wide berth. Spock would find it amusing if he was not currently concerned about his daughter. There were many dangerous things Joanna could get into running around unattended on the Bridge, and he could only hope that she was not yet tall enough to reach anything particularly disastrous.

“Sorry for the delay,” Jim was saying to Professor Montgomery. “We have an infant on board, and she can be quite a force of nature sometimes.”

“An infant?” Professor Montgomery said, surprise evident on his face. “I was not aware starships carried children.”

“They don’t, usually – we’re the first,” Jim said, gesturing at Spock. “She’s Mister Spock’s daughter, actually, his and the Doctor’s.”

“Oh.” The Professor continued to look surprised. Spock was expecting prejudice, but instead he said, “I can’t imagine juggling a kid along with all of the duties you must have running a starship.”

“It is not easy,” Spock said truthfully. “Some days are…smoother than others.”

The Professor laughed. “Now that I can believe!”

Spock frowned. He almost asked which part the Professor found unbelievable, but Jim’s comm beeped. Jim flipped it open. “Scotty?”

“We have access to the Bridge now, we’ll have you beamed up soon.”

“Great!” Jim snapped the communicator closed and placed a friendly hand on the Professor’s shoulder. “Thanks again for your hospitality, but we better leave before our resident infant locks us out again.”

“Of course, Captain.” The Professor winked. “Say hi to the little tyke for me, will you?”

“Why—?” Spock started, but the tingly feeling of the transporter dematerializing him interrupted him.

Soon, they were all back on the _Enterprise_. Leonard was off of his transporter pad as soon as they were fully materialized, Spock close behind him.

“Woah, what’s the rush?” Jim called out, but the doors shut behind them before they could answer.

“They would tell us if she injured herself, wouldn’t they?” Leonard grumbled on the turbolift. He was bouncing on his heels, as if the motion would hasten the speed of the turbolift.

Spock gently grabbed his wrist. “Yes. I am sure she is fine.”

When they finally reached the Bridge, they found a perfectly content Joanna sucking her thumb as Doctor M’Benga held her. Scott and Mister Sulu were also on the Bridge, looking frazzled, as if they had been chasing a child around the room.

“Pa!” Joanna cried when she spotted them. This was the name she was currently using to, apparently, refer to both of them. Doctor M’Benga put her down on the ground and, to their absolute amazement, she started running towards them – and immediately fell flat on her face.

And then she began to cry.

“It is alright, Joanna,” Spock said, leaning down to scoop her up in his arms. She looped her arms around his neck, sniffling. “You are alright.”

Leonard stood next to him, scanning Joanna with a tricorder. His anger finally melted away when he saw for himself that she was fine, and he grinned as he patted her head. “Just a bruise, Joanna. You won’t even _feel_ it soon.”

The lack of anger didn’t last long, as it reignited as soon as he whirled around to face Doctor M’Benga. “You and I have to have a little _chat_.”

Doctor M’Benga on his part just looked amused. Spock knew of no other person so completely unphased by Leonard’s anger, including himself. “As you wish, Doctor.”

“Everything settled, is it?” Jim asked as he finally stepped onto the Bridge. He sent a smile Joanna’s way. “Did you have fun today, Miss Joanna?”

“No,” she said, which made all the humans present laugh. She turned to Spock, looking almost indignant. “I hurt.”

“Then you should go down to Sickbay with your father,” Spock said and gently shifted her into Leonard’s arms. He then bent slightly, so that he was eye level with her. “And the next time you want to run around on the Bridge, just ask me. I will take you.”

She giggled and reached for him. He pressed his forehead to hers for a moment, and then stepped back. Leonard was grinning at him in a way that made his eyes sparkle, and Spock flushed slightly as he returned to his post.

“If you go easy on me, I’ll send you the video I took of Jo walking,” Spock heard Doctor M’Benga say as he and Leonard entered the turbolift.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Leonard snapped, and then the doors closed.

Jim let out a chuckle and patted Spock on the shoulder. “See Mister Spock? I told you it would be interesting to have an infant on board.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “That, Captain, I never doubted.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kaoru_of_hakone) !


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